


cradle me, i'll cradle you

by liionne



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2016093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re not really excuses. They do cuddle together under the blankets like this, still in scratchy pants and worn-out shirts, to keep warm. Or rather, to keep Steve warm. Bucky is like his own personal furnace. But there is another reason entirely why they do this.</p><p>Because they love each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cradle me, i'll cradle you

**Author's Note:**

> Literally the first stucky drabble I've ever written, and so I'm dipping my toe in the water, and publishing it. It was originally a prompt fill for a wonderful person who won my shitty giveaway, and they seemed to like it, so who knows? I may well come back and do more later.

Though it was cold when they went to sleep, it’s not anymore. Steve will tell anyone who asks (not that anyone ever does, because no one knows about this in the first place) that they do this because he gets cold, because the windows of their awful little apartment are paper thin and let all the heat out and all the cold in, and because the fire is too far away from the bedroom and it’s too smokey to be any good anyway unless they have all the windows open and that just defeats the point of having the fire in the first place, and so on, and so forth. He’ll make excuses until the cows come home.

They’re not really excuses. They do cuddle together under the blankets like this, still in scratchy pants and worn-out shirts, to keep warm. Or rather, to keep Steve warm. Bucky is like his own personal furnace. But there is another reason entirely why they do this.

Because they love each other.

And that’s not something they can say out loud anywhere but here, tucked up in bed. They can’t even say it around the house because the walls are paper thin and they have a lot of neighbours, and though those neighbours are good people, it’s far better to be safe than sorry. So while they lie there they say it over and over, never tiring of those three simple words.

Where Steve lies, he’s warm. He’s half lying on Bucky, his head lying on his chest, cheek pressed to his shirt so he can hear it thudding. He has a leg thrown between Bucky’s own, and an arm thrown over his chest in turn, so he’s sprawled out over him. The sunlight streams in through the window, warming his back, and Bucky’s body heat warms his front wherever they meet.

He stirs a little, coming to from his sleep slowly. As he stirs, so does Bucky; they have a tendency to wake up almost simultaneously.

"Morning, punk." Bucky murmurs. His voice is thick and husky with sleeper, a little deeper than usually, and automatically Steve smiles.

"Morning, jerk." He returns, giving a small smile as he tilts his head back to look up at him, find that Bucky’s giving Steve the same sleepy smile the younger man is giving him.

Bucky leans down, and joins their lips gently, softly, in the sweetest kiss Steve thinks he’ll ever receive. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t imagined what kissing a dame would be like, but kissing a fella, _his_ fella, is just as good. Maybe better. Much better.

"Ew." Bucky murmur, nose wrinkling as he pulls away,just enough so that Steve can see him. "Morning breath. Disgusting."

And yet he leans down again, kissing Steve, his free hand brushing his shoulder as Steve shifts his hand over Bucky’s head.

"So stop kissing me." Steve murmurs, almost as if it’s a challenge. It sort of is. Though he wonders what a kiss from a dame is like, Steve hopes he won’t get the opportunity to know, because now that he’s tasted Bucky’s lips he doesn’t want to have to give them up.

Bucky shakes his head, and the arm that Steve is lying on wraps around the petite man’s waist, tugging him in, closer to Bucky, up so that he can press their lips more firmly together. Steve melts against him, as he always does. He’s not sure what it is about Bucky that makes him melt, but he knows there’s something. Maybe it’s his charm, or his good looks, or the way he cares so much. Maybe it’s a mixture of all three. He’s not sure, but Steve knows that it makes him addictive.

He gives a small noise of discontent when Bucky pulls away, even though his lungs are burning, demanding air, and his chest heaves a little when he pulls away himself. All Bucky does in response is chuckle, and stroke Steve’s cheek gently with the back of his knuckles.

"Tonight." He promises, and Steve nods. Although really, kisses can be shared anywhere in the apartment, if they’re careful.

"Tonight." Steve agrees silently. He presses a kiss to Bucky’s jaw, and uses his free hand to trace the outline of Bucky’s lips. "I love you, Buck." He murmurs, his voice as low as it can go, not wanting to be over heard.

Bucky nods,and presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I love you too, Stevie. Now c’mon- let’s get breakfast.”

Steve is all but dragged from the bed as Bucky moves him toward the kitchen, where they can get the stove on and warm themselves up further, occasionally pausing to eat their breakfast and steal chaste, secret kisses. Not Steve’s idea of a relationship, no, but close enough.


End file.
